


Objectively Perfect

by AvengersNewB



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awkward Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightmares, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Stark Tower, They all live in the Tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24871156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersNewB/pseuds/AvengersNewB
Summary: All Steve wants is a date with Tony instead of an objectively perfect but absolutely horrible date with someone else. Only if he was brave enough to actually ask.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 56
Kudos: 345
Collections: Stony Loves Steve 2020





	Objectively Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wikketkrikket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wikketkrikket/gifts).



> Based on the prompt "The worst date ever", hope you like this one :)  
> Thank you so much to bae and seri for beta and listening to my constant whining, and Neb for reading through and giving me a great suggestion!  
> Thank you to SLS mods for a wonderful event!

Steve almost says no, when Sam asks him out. 

It’s not like he didn’t hope to be asked out by a colleague, because he did, very much. Almost desperately.

It’s just that he didn’t expect it to be Sam.

***

Steve washes his hair, scrubs his body and thinks about Sam. He looks good, objectively at least, with the dark hair and that little gap between his teeth that’s _adorable_ as far as Bucky’s concerned. He is a nice guy, a good listener, cool and calm, and many other good qualities that Steve can’t remember from Nat’s long, long list.

Steve brushes his hair and wipes himself dry and waits for the anticipation to build up in his chest as he puts on the white dress shirt Nat had insisted he bought and the black pants of the suit Clint decided looked perfect on him. He wishes, so hard, to feel that swirl in his chest, and the pulse in his ears like the last time he wore the same clothes, just as Tony knocked on the door, and the warmth that overflowed from Steve’s heart running all over his body, with the way he smiled at him. He puts on the suit jacket and smiles at his reflection, ignoring Tony’s voice echoing in his brain, ‘who knew you could look even better, Cap,’ and ‘the Colombia Children's Gala would be honored to have you,’ but he can’t ignore the fact that instead of the joy and the vibration through his spine, just because he was going to a gala with Tony, he is empty and numb even if he is supposedly going on a real date tonight.

***

Steve wants to be happy. 

He wants to feel warm and joyful, and he'll give it a real chance this time, as he had promised Nat at least 10 times in the past two days. He doesn’t pull away when Sam holds his fingers a little longer than usual and doesn’t flinch when he puts his hand on the small of Steve’s back as they walk into the restaurant. People turn to look and a few take photos, and Steve doesn’t want to, but all he can think about is what Tony might think if he sees these photos tonight.

The restaurant is nice. Better than nice, really, it’s objectively magnificent. The tablecloths are the whitest Steve has ever seen and the flowers are gorgeous. The staff never seem to stop smiling and even the bathrooms are spacious and sparkling clean which is actually quite handy as Steve ends up hiding in the bathroom for far too long, that Sam comes looking for him at some stage.

Sam is expectedly amazing. He is gentle, funny, and respectful, and looks undeniably sexy in his perfectly-fitting tan suit. And Steve tries, or he tells himself that he does, as he listens and nods and does his best to come up with sentences that are longer than five words. He even asks some questions, getting distracted only half of the time by the thoughts of Tony’s fingers running through his hair as he watches Sam talk about his childhood, high school, and army.

The award-winning seafood linguini tastes bland in Steve’s mouth, and the 100-dollar bottle of wine, is more like red vinegar served in a very delicate stemmed glass. The smiles are fake and the glamor is fabricated. Even the flowers look like they are made out of plastic. 

And Sam, as sexy and gentle and perfect as he is, is just not Tony.

***

Sam smiles and offers to walk Steve back to the tower, and Steve can’t decide if he feels relieved or extremely guilty when Sam doesn’t lean in for a kiss.

Steve walks under the glittering lights of Manhattan, wrapped in the calming noise of the crowd, and tries to convince himself that he had some legitimate reasons, other than Natasha’s glare and Bucky’s cheering, for agreeing to go on this date in the first place.

Steve _does_ want to be happy. He's desperate for something that doesn’t hurt like hell, that’s not failure and sinking in the darkness, something warm, hopeful, bright; something worth moving forward to. 

And it’s not like he doesn’t know what that something is, because he does, he does, he absolutely does. 

Walking down the road toward Stark Tower, Steve thinks about this charming guy, with dark hair, tan skin, and sweet brown eyes who can brighten up Steve’s darkest nights just by showing up out of the blue, after every single one of Steve’s nightmares. The guy who makes them tea, and talks about the most irrelevant things until Steve’s heart slows down, and his breathing starts to even. The beautiful guy, who can take Steve’s breath away with an innocent touch, and can pull Steve out of his thoughts, with one silly joke. The light in the darkness that can swallow Steve’s whole heart but watching Iron Man in the sky, approaching the tower, dissolves it altogether.

Steve knows, had known forever, where his happiness lays. The only problem, however, is that he almost certainly can’t have that happiness. 

Tony is, well, Tony. 

He's a genius, a billionaire, the man of the century; the guy who built a suit of armor, that fucking flies, from scraps in a fucking cave. He has so many pretty people around and he is just too good to be interested in Steve. 

Right?

He is not interested. 

Steve thinks about the past couple of days and the past couple of hours. He thinks about the spark of hope, the stupid crazy dream that an actual date, with a guy who apparently _is_ interested, a few flattering looks, some dirty jokes, and a kiss, maybe, would stop the prolonged torture that Steve’s been going through, that a perfect date with a perfect man would magically make Steve forget about Tony, that he can finally hide behind some shiny new boyfriend and be happy. 

And the date was objectively perfect. Except that it was also absolutely horrible. 

Steve nods to Jake behind the security desk in the lobby, as he presses the elevator button. His head spins a little and his stomach churns, the way it usually does when he gets on the express elevator and all the reasons he tries to come up with just to continue with the ‘we’re just friends’ deal seem ridiculous. That's the tipping point, Steve tells himself as he walks out of the elevator. He’d just been on the perfect date with a perfect guy, only to think of someone else the whole time. The perfect date, that turned out to be the worst date Steve has ever had, is the last straw. There is no other turn to take, nowhere else to go.

Steve has leaped out of flying planes. He has punched monsters and jumped on live grenades. He has been brave despite being afraid and he has saved others many many times. It’s his turn now. He has to be brave to save himself.

This is it.

It’s now or never.

***

“You’re back early, Cap.” 

The communal floor is dark, except for the moonlight streaking through the window in the kitchen. Tony is sitting on his usual chair by the window and the moonlight on the silver in his hair has a smooth glimmer in the dark. He looks like a dream, Steve thinks, as he steps forward taking in the faint scent of Tony’s cologne mixed with the aroma of their usual herbal tea that’s supposed to be calming before bedtime.

“Early?” Steve asks as he opens the mug cabinet. “It’s 10 PM, Tony. When did you expect me back?”

“Your mug is by the kettle. I almost poured you one before remembering you were on a date. I figured you won’t be back tonight.” 

Steve’s hand freezes on the cabinet knob, for a second. He can’t tell if it’s Tony’s words or if there is actually a hint of something unhappy in his tone. He turns the light on, and flicks the switch of the electric kettle, before turning back and leaning on the edge of the cabinet. 

“Are you tryinna say I'm easy? Put out on the first date?” Steve tries casually and watches Tony as he finally turns away from the window and looks at Steve. 

“Well, with the perfect date and the perfect guy, why not?”

“Well,” Steve hums, as he turns to pour hot water in his mug, “there is some wisdom there I guess.” He turns to walk to the window, stopping a step away from Tony and leans his shoulder onto the window. “I promise to put out after the perfect first date, with my perfect guy.” 

It’s now or never, Steve reminds himself, and a thrilling vibration rushes through his body. There is only one way to go from here, and it’s forward, even if it's a couple of inches. The only thing left, after all the loss and pain, after the cold and the unknown, the self-pity and running around in circles, and after tonight's horrible, perfect date, is for Steve to move on. To fall and hope to be caught or crash and break into a million pieces. He had put himself back together before, and he can do it again if it comes to it. He just has to fall. 

“I should’ve known better than going out on a date with someone, while I'm desperately, madly, in love with someone else,” he says, and his heart sinks, the edges of the dark hollow expanding in his chest, and he stops breathing and his heart stops beating too, as he falls, for a second, or for the rest of eternity.

Tony looks at Steve with wide eyes for a moment, and his face softens as his lips curl into a smile. He stands up, steps forward and catches Steve, wrapping an arm around his waist, holding him close. “In love, ha? Why not tell the guy though? He’s been desperately and madly in love with you since he laid eyes on you in Germany.” 

Steve’s heart starts beating again. He starts breathing again. The blood roars in his ears and something warm swirls through his spine, his hands pulling Tony in, pressing him to his chest, to his heart, to his soul. “I was afraid of hurting the guy. Losing him forever. Not being worthy.”

Tony pulls away and his fingers slide up Steve’s neck to tilt his chin. “You’re kidding, right? You’re fucking kidding me? You’re the most beautiful human being in the world, inside and out, and I’m just—” 

Steve brushes his finger on Tony’s lips, and God, he can’t believe he is actually touching Tony like this. “ _You_ are the most beautiful human being in the world. I'm just a kid from Brooklyn.”

Steve cups Tony’s face, his lips finding Tony’s, and his vision goes blurry when Tony pulls him in, digging his fingers into Steve’s sides, and kisses him back. 

They kiss, slowly at first, shy and tentative, before the flood of months and months of want breaks the dam and takes everything awash. Tongues tangle and teeth bite, as they kiss, touch, and kiss some more, and Steve can’t tell who, but someone whispers muffled words against the other one’s lips that sound a lot like ‘I love you’. 

Steve’s not falling. He’s not broken into a million pieces, despite taking the leap, because, thank God, Tony’s got him. He was waiting right here, with Steve’s mug full of herbal tea by the kettle, even when he did not expect Steve to come back home. 

They can do this. They can hold on and fill each other’s mugs and wait for the other one to come back. They can at least try. 

They’ve got this.  
Together.

***

Five cups of tea and a million kisses into the night, Tony has to walk away to take a call. Steve rests his head against the window and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves, before tapping on Sam’s messages on his phone. 

_**09:50 PM:**  
I swear to God and all that is holy in the skies, I am gonna kick your cute little ass if you don’t talk to Tony tonight._

_**9:57 PM:**  
And I’ll make you pay for the wine. I don’t even drink wine._

_**10:00 PM:**  
And then kick your ass again._

_**10:01 PM:**_  
_Just talk to him.  
_ _You’ve got this._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving it a try and I hope you enjoyed it.  
> I'm [avengersNewB](https://avengersnewb.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, come talk to me!   
> Please tell me what you think, kudos and comment highly appreciated!


End file.
